


Hot Enough For You

by Mellow_Yellow



Series: Adventures in Babysitting [5]
Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Babysitting, Fluff and Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-19
Updated: 2014-08-19
Packaged: 2018-02-13 21:23:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,362
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2165706
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mellow_Yellow/pseuds/Mellow_Yellow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's hot as hell and the last thing Mickey wants is to watch a whole mess of babies.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hot Enough For You

It was hot like the surface of the fucking sun and Mickey felt like he was slowly melting, skin damp and sticking to the plastic lawn chair he was slumped over in the Gallaghers’ backyard.

“Hot enough for you?” Ian asked him, grinning. He reached out and threaded his fingers through Mickey’s.

Mickey pulled away, ostensibly because of the PDA but mostly because it was just too hot. “Real original,” he said, rolling his eyes at Ian’s annoying saying.

“It’s not the heat that’ll get you, it’s the humidity,” Ian said, smiling wider now.

Mickey groaned. “Stop.”

“If you can’t stand the heat, get out of the kitchen.”

“I swear to god, Gallagher.”

“Thing’s are really heating up out here.”

Mickey finally hauled himself up and reached over to punch Ian in the shoulder. “You’re the worst,” he said, without energy. He fell back against the plastic chair again.

They were waiting for the above-ground pool to fill. The garden hose hung over the end, gurgling quietly as it filled the plastic shell with water, but it was going to take at least another twenty minutes before it was full enough to swim in. Until then, all they could do was bake quietly in the sun.

Mickey’d been excited about his day off all week. No Rub N Tug, no Yev duty, Ian didn’t have work at the store, they were free for an entire Saturday to just hang out. He’d been unable to stop thinking about the weekend since Monday, and yeah it was embarrassing to be so keyed up about being able to chill with his boyfriend (he still heaved a silent, resigned sigh when he thought the word in his head now, but it wasn’t as weird as it used be, even if he still wasn’t fucking ready to say it out loud yet), but he couldn’t help it. 

Then the heat wave had struck, and Mickey historically had never done well in the heat. He came by it honestly. His own mother used to tell stories about how when he was a baby, he used to physically wilt when it got too hot out, his little face getting flushed and his body drooping in his stroller, until he got back inside an air conditioned room and he’d perk back up like a daisy. 

He didn’t realize he was telling Ian that story out loud at first, his mind fuzzy like he had some kind of fever. Then he noticed Ian was chuckling, and he heard his own voice lazily recounting his mom’s favorite Baby Mickey story.

“She used to say the only time I would be still was when it got hot out,” he was saying. He was surprised he was sharing such a dumb, gay story with Ian, but then again, maybe he wasn’t. This was his dumb, gay life now, might as well accept it.

“I can totally see that,” Ian said, his voice smiley. “You were probably such a fidgety baby.”

Mickey turned his head to watch Ian, who was grinning as he gazed out at the half-filled pool, looking freckly and cute and not at all sweaty and miserable like Mickey was sure he looked.

He tried to fight the words, really he did, but it was hot and goddamnit he actually really did want to know. “Why, what were you like as a baby?”

Ian closed his eyes, frowning as he was tried to remember. “Hm. I think Fiona used to say I was a really well behaved baby.” Mickey snorted at that and Ian reached out to swat at him. “No, seriously. Like, one time she lost me because she left me on the floor of the living room while she went to change laundry, but she had expected me to roam like Lip always did so she looked in the kitchen and then upstairs and then in the basement before she realized I’d never moved from the same spot in the living room, even though I could crawl and stuff.”

Mickey tried to think of a sarcastic comment, but he was kind of caught up in the image of a tiny baby Ian, redheaded and chubby sitting all serene in the living room, waiting patiently for his big sister to return to where she’d left him. 

He bet Ian was crazy cute as a baby.

“Good christ,” he muttered to himself in disbelief, running a hand over his perspiring face like he could wipe away how lame he was.

“You okay?” Ian asked, not privy to Mickey’s embarrassing, pussy-whipped inner thoughts (or was it dick-whipped? Fuck but he was losing his mind), and looking at Mickey in concern.

“Yeah, I think my brain’s just boiling,” Mickey said.

Ian sat up in his lawn chair so he could peek into the pool. “Well, I think it’s almost half-way—” But his words were cut off by the doorbell. Ian raised his eyebrows, standing up from his chair.

“Dude, leave it, it’s probably just some bullshit,” Mickey said, reaching to paw at Ian’s arm, feeling a little needy but unable to fight it.

“Two seconds, man, I’ll be right back,” Ian said. He went up the back porch and into the house, and after five seconds Mickey followed, grumbling.

Inside, the house was stifling and Mickey went to grab a beer. From the front door, he heard a familiar, Russian voice. He let his shoulders slump, throwing his head back, because mother _fucker _.__

__“I did not expect call, they say spot just opened up,” Svetlana was saying. Mickey heard Ian making understanding noises as he trudged through the living room to join the two of them at the front door, his beer abandoned in the kitchen._ _

__Sure enough, Svetlana was holding a squirming Yevgeny, who was wearing a blue bucket hat and was already pink from the heat. Svetlana looked apologetic, which was enough to still the irritated words on Mickey’s tongue. Svetlana never apologized, about anything, ever._ _

__“I can re-schedule, is stupid anyway—” she said to Ian, biting her lip, but Ian shushed her._ _

__“Don’t be ridiculous, you have to take the interview,” Ian said dismissively. He reached out to put a hand on Yev’s head over the bucket hat. The baby stared up at him with his wide eyes, mouth going slack._ _

__“You are sure?” she insisted, and she almost looked like she wanted Ian to say no, like she was looking for the out._ _

__“Absolutely,” Ian said firmly. “We can watch Yevgeny. Go to your interview.”_ _

__Mickey finally spoke up. “What interview? You doing interviews at the Rub N Tug now?”_ _

__Svetlana hesitated, bouncing Yev on her hip to buy time. Ian pursed his lips at her, but the expression was fond._ _

__“Svetlana has an interview for a receptionist position over in Wicker Park,” he said. He smiled at Svetlana encouragingly._ _

__Mickey was at a loss for words. Well, almost. “Fucking….What in the fuck?”_ _

__Svetlana kept her face carefully blank. “It is nothing. Is Russian family, I know them from back home and they need replacement for woman who is pregnant, I am just doing favor.”_ _

__“Except she had to take a test and everything, and there were other people up for the job and they liked her best and she’s going in for the second interview now,” Ian interceded. Svetlana shot him a glare but he just shrugged at her teasingly._ _

__“Don’t you need a green card for that shit?” Mickey demanded. He knew he sounded angry, but mostly he was just so surprised he couldn’t regulate the volume of his voice._ _

__“Is under table,” she said, looking at him like he was slow. “They are Russian.”_ _

__Mickey wanted to demand why the hell she thought she could just abandon the Rub N Tug to be some fancy bourgie receptionist or whatever the fuck without talking to him first, he was supposed to be the pimp here for god’s sake, but then he noticed her eyes._ _

__Svetlana was a tough one to read most of the time, but the edges of her eyes went strained and tight when she was nervous. Today she looked nervous, and maybe even a little excited. He’d never seen her like that before._ _

__So Mickey settled for the kind of light indignation he knew Svetlana and Ian would both be able to interpret as tacit consent. “Why the fuck am I always the last to know about shit like this?”_ _

__Ian smiled at him, like he was proud or some shit, and Mickey tried to ignore the way his cheek tingled when Ian leaned over and pressed a loud smacking kiss to his check. “Oh my god, get off,” he said, smacking Ian away lightly._ _

__“Okay, we got Yev, get going! And good luck!” Ian said to Svetlana, reaching to take Yev into his arms, the baby still staring up at Ian in that unnerving way he had._ _

__“Well there goes our fucking day,” Mickey grumbled, because he had a part to play here he supposed. If nothing else, his grumpiness seemed to loosen Svetlana up._ _

__“You can rub dicks together later, right now I need you to watch baby for one fucking time in life,” she said sharply, the vulnerable tightness around her eyes disappearing._ _

__“Yeah, yeah, we hear you, Mother Russia,” Mickey said. He reached out to grab Yev’s foot without meaning to, rubbing the soft arch with his thumb._ _

__Svetlana opened her mouth to make some sort of comeback, but she was interrupted by a loud, annoyingly jovial and familiar voice from the front gate._ _

__“Is the Gallagher daycare open for business today?”_ _

__Kev and Veronica were striding up the sidewalk toward the front steps, Veronica pushing a double stroller in front of her that was occupied by two bright-eyed infants, each with a bow in their hair, one pink and one purple._ _

__“I know it’s last minute, but Kev won baseball tickets in a game last night and I haven’t had beer in over a year and I just want to go get sloshed in the bleachers, so this is kind of an emergency.” Veronica’s face was wide and happy, like the prospect of some Old Style in the sun was the best possible thing she could think of._ _

__“Fiona said Debbie would be able to watch them,” Kev added._ _

__“Debbie’s not here,” Ian said, shifting Yev to his other hip. “She went to the beach with some friends today.”_ _

__Veronica frowned, but Kev pushed on. “Well, when does Fiona get home?”_ _

__“I think her shift’s over in an hour or so, but she’s picking up Liam from Lip’s dorm and bringing him home after that,” Ian said._ _

__Veronica looked torn, the thought of beer clearly vying with her worry about the babies. "If Debbie or Fiona aren’t here, maybe we shouldn’t leave them?” Veronica said to Kevin uncertainly. She reached down to adjust the straps over one of the twins, the one with the purple bow._ _

__“Fiona’s going to be home in an hour, these knucklehead can handle it until then,” Kev insisted, gesturing at Ian and Mickey._ _

__“I would not count on it,” Svetlana said, rolling her eyes at Mickey, but softening at the sight of the Ball babies. She went to kneel by the babies and coo, talking to them in soft Russian._ _

__Mickey scoffed, because Svetlana was not nearly as much of a hardass as she pretended sometimes._ _

__“I suppose we can watch them,” Ian said from beside him. Mickey turned to him with his mouth open in betrayal, but Veronica spoke before he could yell at Ian._ _

__“No, it’s okay, we can just skip the game. It’s no big deal,” Veronica said. She sounded a little tentative, but also bummed. She began working to wheel the wide stroller around while her shoulders slumped. And man, but Mickey was fucking soft anymore, but the sight of Veronica’s sad but stoic posture made him crack._ _

__All she wanted was a damn beer, and him and Ian were just watching an outdoor pool fill up with water anyway. Goddamnit._ _

__“Oh for the love of—fucking fine, we’ll watch your spawn,” Mickey called out._ _

__Kev raised his fist in triumph and wheeled the stroller out of Veronica’s hands, tilting it so he manhandle it up the porch and into the house. Mickey and Ian stepped aside to let him in, Veronica following with the diaper bag over her shoulder._ _

__With military speed and efficiency, she whipped out a wide patterned blanket and set it on the floor, unhooking both babies from the strollers and setting them on the blanket, babbling at them the whole time. Mickey could only watch in stunned respect as she whirled around, setting up toys and making the babies comfortable. For their part, the babies made squawking noises but looked otherwise unperturbed by their new surroundings. Veronica pulled out two bottles of formula and gave them to her daughters._ _

__“They’ll probably go down for a nap after this, so they shouldn’t be too much trouble,” she said over her shoulder. To the babies, she said, “Isn’t that right, baby girls? You’re going to be good for Uncle Ian and his dirty little thug, aren’t you?, Right, Gemma? Amy?”_ _

__Mickey ignored the insult and peered over Veronica’s shoulder at the babies. “Which one’s which?” he asked._ _

__Veronica cocked her head, looking thoughtfully at the babies. “You know what, it could go either way.” She kissed them both noisily on the head, making the babies giggle, then stood up._ _

__“Babe, we need to boogie if we’re going to make it to Wrigley,” Kev told Veronica, tugging gently at her arm._ _

__Kev’s words clicked in Mickey’s head, and he groaned. “Oh, fuck you, we’re watching your kids so you can go watch the Cubs lose?” he demanded, because he’d assumed it was a Sox game. Kev was wearing a White Sox hat and his Fisk jersey. Kev pulled out two Cubs tickets from his pocket anyway._ _

__“You sure are. They’re playing the Red Sox, it’s going to be a blood bath,” Kev said with relish._ _

__Mickey wanted to stay mad, but he could kind of get behind this too. Watching the Cubs get their asses handed to them was almost as fun as watching the Sox win the World Series._ _

__“Fuck you guys,” he said in defeat. He sat on the floor with his back to the couch, looking down at the Ball babies on the floor beside him glumly._ _

__“If those babies are not in total pristine working order when I get back, I will wear your ass out, Milkovich!” Veronica called out as Kev dragged her to the door._ _

__“Why aren’t you threatening Ian? Maybe Ian’s the bad babysitter, ever think of that?” Mickey shot back._ _

__“Nice try,” Kevin said. “But seriously. My girls better be fine when we get back.” For once, his naturally wide and friendly face looked frightening, before following his wife out the door._ _

__“Fuck, jesus, I’m not going to hurt a baby, I’m not a fucking monster,” Mickey said irritably._ _

__“Have fun at the game!” Ian said. He nudged Svetlana with his hip, who was dithering near the door. “Go to your interview, you’re going to be late.”_ _

__Svetlana left with Veronica and Kev, and suddenly Ian and Mickey were alone in the living room, surrounded by three babies that were not there fifteen minutes ago._ _

__“Well, fuck,” Mickey said into the silence._ _

__Ian laughed, swinging Yev into Mickey's lap. “Hold this, I’ll go shut off the hose,” Ian said. He left the living room, ignoring Mickey’s “Dude, wait!” from behind him._ _

__That left him with two strange babies. The Ball twins were staring up at him, their cheerful squawking of a moment ago gone silent as they sucked on their bottles._ _

__“How’s it going,” Mickey said to them. He looked at his son in his lap, who was also gazing up at him toothily. “What is it with you babies and the staring?” Yev didn’t answer him, sticking a fist in his mouth to suck on it. “So are you hungry too, or what?” Yev still didn’t answer, but Mickey decided to make Ian fix him a bottle when he came back inside anyway._ _

__Cautiously, he reached out and placed on a hand on the belly of the Ball baby nearest him, the one with the pink ribbon._ _

__“I’ll call you Thing One,” he told her. He looked at her purple-ribboned sister beside him. “And you’re Thing Two.”_ _

__Neither baby objected to their new nicknames, and Mickey nodded. That was done. He noticed his son watching him like he, too, was waiting for a nickname. “You can be Lil Creep,” he told him. Yev didn’t even blink to interrupt his wide-eyed fascination with Mickey’s face. “God, dude, we’re going to have to get you a little mustache to wear or something, you little weirdo.”_ _

__But he cuddled Yev to his chest anyway, even though it was hot and the kid was like a tiny space heater. His weight felt soft and familiar against Mickey, so he held him while he watched Thing One and Thing Two suck on their bottles. Thing Two finished first, the bottle clattering to the side and rolling halfway under the couch._ _

__Thing Two seemed to look at him expectantly, or maybe that was his imagination, because he suddenly remembered that she was an infant and after she ate, she needed to be burped. He hated that he was familiar enough with babies that he knew that now._ _

__“Shit,” Mickey said, eyeing the logistics uncertainly. Hiking Yev up on his left shoulder, he leaned experimentally and tried to get a grip on Thing Two, doing his best to scoop her up onto his forearm so her head didn’t flop around._ _

__It was a little sloppy, but he finally got the baby situated against his right shoulder, shimmying back so gravity made both Thing Two and Yevgeny lean onto him. He rubbed Thing Two’s narrow back smoothly up and down, marveling at the tiny, delicate shape of her ribs under his fingers._ _

__He was feeling a little smug at how smoothly this was going until Thing Two burped, and spat up milk all over Mickey’s shoulder._ _

__“Goddamnit.” He flipped her back so she was lying along his arm against his knee. “Not cool, Thing Two,” Mickey scolded. Thing Two made a loud babbling sounds, but didn’t look sorry._ _

__At that moment, Ian returned, just in time to see Mickey lecturing an infant on how it was mad rude to spit up all over someone you just met._ _

__“You fucking take a nap out there or something?” Mickey demanded angrily when Ian flopped onto the couch beside where Mickey was leaning. He looked up to see Ian was covered in water._ _

__“No, I did not take a nap,” Ian said irritably. “I spent ten minutes trying to get the water to turn off because there was a tear in the hose and the knob by the house fell off.” He gestured at his soaking T-shirt. “Hence the soaking wetness.”_ _

__Mickey rolled his eyes. “Well, if you’re ready to fucking help me, go ahead and burp Thing One when she’s done with her bottle.” He smirked up Ian. “Unless you want to go take another swim first, princess.”_ _

__Ian smacked him lightly on the back of the head but scooched down until he was sitting on the floor beside Mickey. He reached over and lifted the other Ball baby up onto his shoulder in an irritatingly smooth and practiced motion, but Mickey figured fuck him, because Ian only had to maneuver one baby, not two, so it wasn’t that impressive._ _

__Ian did remember to root through the diaper bag Veronica had left to pull out a towel to throw over his shoulder first, so fair point to Ian, Mickey supposed._ _

__While Ian burped Thing One, Mickey watched him surreptitiously. Ian’s face was open and calm as he patted the baby’s back gently and spoke to Yev and Thing Two in Mickey’s lap softly at the same time, using a whispery, high-pitched voice that Mickey should find annoying if he didn’t also find himself almost as soothed as the two babies watching Ian in mesmerized silence._ _

__Mickey was struck by how good Ian was at this. He wasn’t surprised, obviously Ian was good with kids, he’d grown up with a veritable hoard of kids and he was like a magical enchanter with Yevgeny. But this was the first time he’d thought of Ian as being an actual natural with kids, the way you’re good at something when it’s what you were meant to do. Ian was meant to be a dad._ _

__The thought jolted Mickey a little. Yeah, he considered Ian part of Yev’s life as much as he or Svetlana were. They were a weird little tripod, but it worked for them. And yet, he’d never thought of Ian as Yev’s second dad, maybe because Mickey was just now comfortable thinking of himself as Yev’s dad in the first place._ _

__It made him think, for a tiny, embarrassing moment, about Ian as a baby again. Or more specifically, what Ian’s baby would look like. With something akin to helpless horror, he watched his mind’s eye construct a chubby, placid infant sitting on the floor, waiting for his redheaded father to come pick him up._ _

__Holy shit, he thought weakly to himself. Maybe the heat really was making his brain boil._ _

Nevertheless, sitting beside Ian now, as he burped Thing One and set her against his raised knees like Mickey had Yev and Thing Two positioned, talking to the babies easily, Mickey couldn’t ignore how suddenly, totally, _in to _Ian he felt.__

____He refused to think he was turned on because Ian was good with kids. It was too fucking weird. But something about watching Ian now made it almost impossible for Mickey not to lean over and kiss him on the lips._ _ _ _

____So he did. It wasn’t like the babies cared._ _ _ _

____Ian was startled but he returned the kiss for a second, pulling back with a confused pucker of his eyebrows. “Hey there,” he said, surprised._ _ _ _

____Mickey pulled back, feeling embarrassed and confused by the impulse. Ian still looked confused, but he didn’t have a chance to ask Mickey what the hell was going on because the front door slammed open, the bang of the screen door hitting the wall making Mickey and Ian flinch and Things One and Two let out threatening, wail-like sounds._ _ _ _

____“Sh, shhh,” Ian said hurriedly to the babies, as Mickey called out, “Fucking chill with that door-slamming, shit.”_ _ _ _

____“Sorry! Sorry!” Fiona rushed into the living room, Liam balancing on her hip. “I just, thing’s are really—that’s a lot of babies,” she finished, spotting the three little ones positioned across Ian and Mickey’s laps on the floor._ _ _ _

____“Kev and V got tickets to a baseball game and asked us to watch Gemma and Amy, and Svetlana had work so we’re on Yev duty again,” Ian explained. He shrugged prosaically, and with a lot less of a grudge than Mickey was feeling. “How was work?”_ _ _ _

____Fiona set Liam on the couch and hurried into the kitchen. “I’m still working, technically. I was able to pick up another shift.”_ _ _ _

____“Then why are you home?” Ian asked idly, reaching over to grab a toy that jingled and had a sparkly handle to try and distract the still-whimpering Ball twins._ _ _ _

____“I had to pick up Liam, Lip had that final and I thought I’d bring him home so you could watch him,” she said. “I knew you and Mickey were just going to be hanging around the house today.”_ _ _ _

____Like they might not have more important things to do than babysit everyone’s spare kids, Mickey thought sourly._ _ _ _

____“We can watch him,” Ian said easily._ _ _ _

____“This isn’t happening,” Mickey muttered to himself. He felt like he had tunnel vision like a heroine in a horror movie, the room getting narrower and brighter as he stared at the steadily increasing quantity of babies in the room._ _ _ _

____Beside him, Liam eased himself down from the couch and sat between Ian and Mickey on the floor, looking over the Ball babies solemnly, ignoring Yev who was familiar and clearly less interesting to the toddler._ _ _ _

____“Babies,” Liam said._ _ _ _

____Mickey made the introductions. “Thing One, Thing Two, meet Liam.”_ _ _ _

____Liam patted his hand idly on Thing Two’s belly. By now, the Ball babies were distracted and no longer threatening to cry, all babies in the room studying each other with interest. “Babies,” Liam said again, looking up at Mickey for confirmation._ _ _ _

____“Good eye, kid,” Mickey said._ _ _ _

____Fiona came back from the kitchen, hair frizzy and eyes tired. “I’m sorry to leave you in the lurch, looks like you’ve got your hands full, but the shift just opened up and we really need the money and—”_ _ _ _

____Mickey didn’t even fight it this time. “Just go,” he said tiredly. “If you see any other unaccompanied minors on the street, be sure to send ‘em our way. Maybe we can get a game of touch football going.”_ _ _ _

____Ian nudged him with his shoulder. “It’s fine, Fiona,” he told her. Mickey gave him a look, but Ian looked content, almost a little excited, like he was surprised Fiona was leaving him with Liam. Mickey supposed it must still feel a little novel, when just six months ago all the Gallaghers and the Balls and even he and Svetlana were afraid to leave Ian by himself, let alone in charge of four little kids. So Mickey relented, slumping against the couch._ _ _ _

____Fiona paused beside them, then bent to press a loud kiss to Liam’s cheek, who giggled. “Bye, little man. Be good.” She turned and kissed the top of Ian’s head. “Thanks again, kiddo.” And to Mickey’s eternal surprise, she turned and pressed a light kiss to the side of his head too. “You guys are the best.”_ _ _ _

____Mickey fumbled to hide his blush as Fiona straightened and headed out the door. “I’ll be back by eight!” she called over her shoulder._ _ _ _

____Ian looked down at Liam. “You hungry for lunch, bud?” he asked him. Liam nodded._ _ _ _

____So Mickey and Ian brought all the kids into the kitchen and made lunch, strapping Yev into a highchair and plonking Liam on a regular chair and strapping the Ball babies into their double stroller and wheeling them into the kitchen to watch the proceedings. Mickey made him and Ian and Liam grilled cheese, and Ian tried to entertain the troops, getting out two dolls and enacting an epic drama on the kitchen table with wild voices and sound effects._ _ _ _

____Mickey was pretty sure the babies didn’t get some of Ian’s weirder humor that had Mickey shoulders shaking as he flipped the sandwiches and listened from the stove, but the kids all seemed happy with the show anyway._ _ _ _

____“And Barbie said, ‘Ken, I know you’re gay, no one plays that much racquetball with their platonic friends that late at night.’ And Ken tried to protest, but Barbie said, ‘Ken, I’m gay too. Everyone’s gay. We’re all gay. Just accept it.’” Ian made Barbie spin around dramatically, her doll hair whooshing past Yevgeny’s cheek and making the baby squeal out a laugh._ _ _ _

____Mickey set down the finished sandwiches and a handful of Cheerios and grapes for Yev, and listened to Ian finish his Very Gay Barbie Story without comment._ _ _ _

____And if he found himself thinking about a little hypothetical redheaded baby intermittently throughout lunch, and after as they brought all the kids outside beside the pool where they sat them under a big umbrella so they wouldn’t bake in the sun, it wasn’t like anyone knew about his embarrassing secret fantasy but him._ _ _ _

____Ian was so calm with all the babies. He was almost more in control than he was when it was just Yev. It was like watching a lion tamer, as Ian effortlessly switched his attention from the twins to Yev, picking up one baby when it fussed or swinging up Liam so he could peek inside the half-filled pool or tickling a baby foot when one of them started to babble. It was so obvious that Ian loved being around kids, that he was made for a big family of his own. It was so obvious that it almost went without saying, but Mickey’s big mouth was almost incapable of going without saying._ _ _ _

____So that was how Mickey’s embarrassing secret fantasy became less of a secret._ _ _ _

____“Do you want kids?” he said out of nowhere a few hours later. They were back inside, lounging on the couch, the Ball babies and Yev having drifted to sleep between them and Liam avidly watching cartoons on TV._ _ _ _

____Ian glanced at him, startled, then looked away evasively. “Why, do you?”_ _ _ _

____Mickey hesitated, because this wasn’t supposed to be about him, but he was powerless to ignore Ian as he waited patiently for Mickey’s response._ _ _ _

____“I don't know. It’s like,” he paused, flailing his hands around a little bit like he was grabbing his words from the air, “when I imagined my life, you know, in the future, maybe I always imagined…less babies.” He glanced down at Yev and Thing One snuggled asleep against his chest. “There’s just…I feel like there’s a lot of babies going on right now.”_ _ _ _

____“They seem to like you, though,” Ian said thoughtfully. He was running his palm soothingly up and down Thing Two's back, who had passed out with her stomach slumped across Ian’s lap._ _ _ _

____“They’re babies. They don’t know shit,” Mickey retorted._ _ _ _

____Ian tilted his head in that way that meant he was turning something over in his head. “No, they do. They trust you.”_ _ _ _

____Mickey looked at him skeptically. “If you say so.” He reached out and poked him in the side. “But you never answered.”_ _ _ _

____"Why do you want to know?" Ian stalled. Mickey supposed he had a point, this was seriously putting the cart before the horse, but he couldn't help himself._ _ _ _

____“Because you would be good at it,” Mickey said shyly, and then he was thinking again about the stupid fantasy he’d had in his head all day, the dumb nameless imaginary baby, and it made his mouth irresponsible. “I can kind of see it, you know, you goofing around with a little redheaded kid that has your same stupid smile.”_ _ _ _

____Ian sat up straighter. “Wait. A redheaded kid?”_ _ _ _

____Mickey looked at him uncertainly. “Yeah, red hair like yours, Firecrotch, come on.”_ _ _ _

____“Mickey, I can’t have kids,” Ian said firmly._ _ _ _

____“Well, yeah. You’re a dude,” Mickey said, not really understanding his point. “I mean, neither can I. I might’ve failed freshman bio but I know that much.”_ _ _ _

____“No, I,” Ian started, then stopped, swallowing. “I can never have kids, not of my own.” He looked so frustrated, Mickey kind of forgot himself, determined to get to the bottom of whatever was going on._ _ _ _

____“I mean, what about, like, surrogacy?” Mickey asked._ _ _ _

____“What do you know about surrogacy?” Ian asked, lips quirking into an amused smile._ _ _ _

____Shit. Mickey had to stop referencing things he read in that goddamn parenting magazine from the free clinic (and maybe he caved and looked up the magazine online and got a free six-month subscription and now he gets email updates every week, fucking shut up, he knew it was dumb but it was his dumb thing and he was dealing with it), so he tried to look nonchalant._ _ _ _

____“Don’t change the subject,” he said, staring pointedly at Ian until he stopped grinning and went serious again._ _ _ _

____Ian chewed on the nail of his pointer finger, looking thoughtful. “I still couldn’t. Have a kid, I mean. Even if it was even an option, surrogacy or whatever, because it’s not, that shit’s expensive as hell.”_ _ _ _

Mickey decided to ignore that obviously Ian knew a fair bit about surrogacy too and pushed on, because he still didn’t understand. “Why not, though? You’re great with kids. You obviously love the little shits, I mean you’ve been so into it today, having all these fucking babies running around. I just assumed you wanted a big family someday or some shit.” And finally Mickey managed to clamp his mouth shut, because fucking christ, shut up, Milkovich, _shut up _.__

Ian also seemed surprised at the unexpected spewing of words, but then he cocked his head, looking at Mickey like he was missing something so obvious. And maybe he was. “Mick, I could never give a kid my family’s genes,” he said quietly. 

______It hit Mickey like a brick, the way it always did when they had a few hours when things were normal and he could almost forget that Ian was sick. That he was fine right now, he’d been fine for weeks, but he could take a turn at any point. His medication was working now, but the therapist was always saying that being bipolar was a lifelong thing, not a one-time sickness, and they would probably have to adjust things eventually, Ian might have episodes in the future, there might triggers, things could go wrong, they were never going to be totally safe._ _ _ _ _ _

______“Oh,” Mickey said, just as quietly. Ian focused intently on Thing Two, who was curled in his lap like she’d spent her entire life there._ _ _ _ _ _

______The thing was, on an academic level, Mickey got it. He could even admire Ian for wanting to protect some theoretical kid the way his own fucking irresponsible mother had never thought to do. Even knowing that Ian was right, that it wasn’t fair to curse some kid with the uncertainty and pain of a disease that Ian was still struggling to control, Mickey felt an acute, unexpected swoop of loss tighten his chest so that he couldn’t breathe._ _ _ _ _ _

______“Oh,” he said again._ _ _ _ _ _

______He realized how much he’d been taking for granted the fact that, while dorky and embarrassing, his little fantasy all day of a freckly redheaded baby who looked just like Ian was not actually an impossibility. One day, one day in the way, far away future, when they could ask Fiona or Debbie or even Mandy to help, Mickey assumed he and Ian could have some small part of themselves together. He didn’t really care if it looked like him, it was probably better if didn’t, but what mattered was that it would be made up of Ian in some way. Ian, who was the best part of anything Mickey had ever had in his life, who somehow had the worst luck of anyone he’d ever known._ _ _ _ _ _

______But they couldn’t have that. Of course they couldn't And it just sucked, so much. There was no other way to put it. It sucked, and it was fucking unfair, that this fantasy Mickey didn’t even know he really wanted was suddenly just that, a fantasy, because some fucking biological roulette wheel had decided to take this from him, not just from him, but from Ian, who deserved so much more._ _ _ _ _ _

______For a brief second in time, Mickey let himself wallow. He was angry, but mostly he was sad, for Ian, but also selfishly for himself. He let himself grieve, for a swift second, for a little redheaded baby he will never know, letting a whirl of imagined moments of the future run through his head on a reel, silently saying goodbye to this dumb, stupid fantasy that had so quickly and unexpectedly become important to him._ _ _ _ _ _

______He came back to himself, blinking, and saw that Ian was still staring fixedly at the baby in his lap. He looked tense and unhappy. Mickey told himself to buck the fuck up and make Ian stop looking so sad, because Ian right now was more important than some half-baked parenting future fantasy he'd concocted for himself. Ian was more important than anything._ _ _ _ _ _

______“Looks like we’re adopting then, dumbass,” Mickey said, reaching over to punch Ian lightly in the shoulder._ _ _ _ _ _

______Ian glanced up, startled. Then he laughed that weird, sharp laugh of his and shoved Mickey back._ _ _ _ _ _

______“Who says I want fucking kids with you, weirdo?” Ian said._ _ _ _ _ _

______Mickey flicked him off. “Like you haven’t been dreaming for years about locking this down,” he said dismissively._ _ _ _ _ _

______Ian rolled his eyes but leaned over a little so he was pressed closer to Mickey’s side. Mickey began to feel better, still sad, but less angry. Which was enough._ _ _ _ _ _

______They watched the rest of the current Spongebob Squarepants episode and then resettled the babies onto the floor, lining them up toe-to-tail on the blanket Veronica had brought. Liam resisted his nap for a bit but Ian finally got him to go down in his bed upstairs. Afterward, Mickey got him and Ian a beer while they say quietly in the heat of the kitchen, propping open the back door to let a breeze in as they looked out onto the backyard._ _ _ _ _ _

______They had a few hours before Fiona or the Balls would be back, and Mickey figured Svetlana probably got the job and was working her first shift, so he resigned himself to spending the foreseeable future waiting out nap time. He took gulp from his beer bottle, feeling a rare breeze blow over his face, and glanced at Ian. He supposed there were worse fates._ _ _ _ _ _

______Mickey felt Ian lean against him, and eventually he put a hand on Ian’s leg, that fierce protective urge he got around the kid these days making him squeeze Ian’s bony knee firmly._ _ _ _ _ _

______“I do want a big family, you know,” Ian said softly._ _ _ _ _ _

______Mickey felt the words more than he heard them, Ian breathing softly into his shoulder. Even after everything, he marveled that they were even fucking talking about this, that things were this serious, that he had actually been the one to bring up this insanity himself out of the blue today. But maybe it was inevitable too, he figured. Ian was it for him, after all, and carving out the vague idea of a future together was the next step, as foreign and strange as the idea was._ _ _ _ _ _

______“We got time, man,” Mickey said finally. “We’ll figure it out.”_ _ _ _ _ _

**Author's Note:**

> From a prompt found by CasTheButler asking for Mickey and Ian to get stuck watching a ton of Shameless babies.
> 
> Important note: I am not trying to argue that people with bipolar diseases and other mental issues shouldn't reproduce, not at all. In the context of this story, I thought Ian and Mickey, who had both so recently been struggling with a very intense series of bipolar episodes, and especially Ian, who's dealt with his mom who's been so unstable for so long, might be especially skittish at the thought of potentially passing it along. If this makes people upset or uncomfortable, I understand and that's my fault.
> 
> Come goof around with me on tumblr: ohjafeeljadefinitelyfeel.tumblr.com


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